


Cafuné

by MasterFinland



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: F/M, Female Ranma, Gen, Oops, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vomiting, explicit pregnancy symptoms, ranko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-06-09 18:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15273402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterFinland/pseuds/MasterFinland
Summary: It had been twenty-two days.She delivered a harsh kick to her pop’s gut, grinning to herself at the sound he made, something between a gasp and a groan, and filled with sleepy confusion. For a martial artist, the bastard was way too unaware, and slept way too deeply. “Get up, ya lazy ass, or I’m gonna eat all your breakfast.”She’d been stuck like this for twenty-two days.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a continuation of my fic Peach
> 
>  
> 
> Cafuné (v.); The act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

Nineteen days.

 

She’d been stuck like this for nineteen  _ fucking  _ days.

 

For nearly three weeks she’d woken up on her stomach with red hair on her pillow and aching boobs pressed into her futon. 

 

And she fucking hated it.

 

She often went long periods of time where she rarely changed, but this time it had been too long, far too long, without any change, and those around her- Nabiki, Akane, Ucchan- were beginning to notice. Even her  _ father _ , her absolute buffoon of a father, had begun to look at her strangely, with narrowed eyes glared her way during early morning training, after a breakfast she could barely eat, when her movements were oddly sluggish and her hair was far too vibrant. 

 

She hated it. 

 

She knew Akane would start to push her to go to see Cologne soon enough, probably within a matter of days, once she truly realized that Ranma was legitimately  _ stuck  _ again, and not just wearing clothes far too big for her tiny body for kicks, and not just showing up to breakfast without a shirt because she felt like it, but doing so because her tits fucking  _ hurt _ . And Ranma  _ knew  _ she should probably go and see the old woman, logically, even though she  _ was  _ pretty sure that the Amazon women had nothing to do with her sudden ability to curl up in a hot bath and still sigh out with the highest-pitched puffs of breath, black hair no longer pooling at her shoulders, and probably wouldn’t be able to help her. 

 

But the worst part was that she hadn’t seen Ryouga in weeks, not even as P-chan, nuzzled between Akane’s boobs while she slept like the little pervert he was. It pissed her off, quite frankly, because usually the little fucker was at least prowling around town in one of his two forms, trying to find his way, but she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since the night in the dojo, and neither had anyone else. It fucking infuriated her, left her with a sickly burning feeling in her tummy that she refused to believe was anything other than anger. 

 

* * *

 

 

Ranma rolled over in her futon, back aching, her entire body practically dripping with sweat even though they had the AC all the way up and she’d kicked her blankets off hours ago. Her father was under both his and her blankets, even though the bastard ran hotter than a goddamn furnace, proving to her that it was her own body betraying her, and not the summer heat. She groaned quietly as she sat up, tatami rough under her hands, squinting at the light coming through the curtains. She was barely able to drag herself from the floor to roll the nasty bedding up and kick it against the wall before grabbing her softest tank top and yanking it on, ignoring the outright pain it caused her sensitive chest, because she really didn’t need Kasumi berating her again over the fact that she was naked at breakfast. 

 

It had been twenty-two days.

 

She delivered a harsh kick to her pop’s gut, grinning to herself at the sound he made, something between a gasp and a groan, and filled with sleepy confusion. For a martial artist, the bastard was way too unaware, and slept way too deeply. “Get up, ya lazy ass, or I’m gonna eat all your breakfast.” 

 

She’d been stuck like this for twenty-two days.

 

She padded out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, hoping it was unoccupied, knowing she had plenty of time to relieve her incredibly full bladder and make it down to the family room before her father even rolled out of bed. Thankfully, no one else was pissing or bathing at this hour, so she was able to get in, do her business, and get out in less than five minutes. She shuffled down the stairs, eyes scanning for something her brain wasn’t fully aware of at this ungodly hour, and turned the corner to slip through the hall silently until she reached the family room. She slid the door open, not at all surprised to find Soun already reading the newspaper- seriously, what the hell was wrong with him, it was barely six in the morning and he had literally nowhere to be- and Nabiki flipping through channels on the tv, still in pajamas and hair all over the place, even though she had a class that started shortly after theirs began. Akane, already dressed and ready to go, was finishing the last of what Ranma assumed to be her homework at the table, drinking what looked to be tea, but Ranma couldn’t be certain from this far away. 

 

She slid the door shut behind her with a yawn and sat on her usual cushion, directly across from Akane, legs folded up in front of her, and promptly dropped her head onto the table with a sharp  _ smack _ that sounded like it hurt even to her own ears, hoping that Kasumi had made something light to eat this morning, because all of a sudden her stomach felt rather uneasy. She could feel the three Tendous’ concerned eyes on her, but she ignored them, instead choosing to try her hardest to go back to sleep for just five more minutes.

 

“Ranma-chan?” Soun, ever the man to dip his toes into shark-infested waters without realizing it, spoke to her softly, a fatherly lilt to his voice, and received only a rough grunt in response. “Are you feeling alright, my dear? You don’t look so well.” 

 

“‘M fine.” Ranma huffed, reaching behind herself to un-tug her hair tie, letting her brilliant curls fall against her back and shoulders before tugging them back up into a loose bun to try and get some of the heat off of her sweaty neck. She felt like shit. “Jus’ hot, ‘n kinda tired.” She grumbled, hoping to cut off a stream of concerned questions she really didn’t feel like answering. Her back was starting to hurt again. 

 

Twenty-two fucking days.

 

Thankfully, Nabiki, ever observant and somewhat cold, interrupted with her own question before her father or sister could start, taking the attention almost completely off of Ranma in an instant. Ranma was going to owe her. Damn. 

 

“Is your dad ever going to come down? I’m hungry and I still have to get ready for school.” She grouched, the whine not completely real. 

 

“You should get ready when you first wake up, Nabiki, and then maybe you wouldn’t miss the first fifteen minutes of your early class every morning!” Akane huffed, turning to her sister, now in her first year of college, who simply snorted and waved her off.

 

“Can’t do anything without coffee and breakfast, Akane, you know this. Plus, the later I am, the less time I have to sit through a boring-ass economics lecture.” Ranma snickered silently, picturing the way Akane was bristling with frustration. If the way she slammed her pen onto the table was any indication, she hadn’t yet realized that Nabiki was just fucking with her.

 

The scent of whatever Soun had been drinking hit her nose suddenly, and without warning vomit rose up Ranma’s throat. She was barely able to jerk her body away from the table before she was retching onto the dyed tatami beneath her, eyes wide and just as startled as the now-silent group around her. 

 

Everything moved in a flurry of motion after that, a blur that landed Ranma back in her room with a rag over her head and a thermometer in her mouth, a worried Kasumi sitting beside her, brows crinkled and soft frown on her face, before she even knew what happened. She slipped into sleep quickly and easily to the feeling of Kasumi’s gentle fingers carding through her loose, sweaty hair, and didn’t wake until the sun was much lower in the sky.

  
It had only been twenty-two  _ fucking _ days, but Ranma just wanted it to be over already. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Kasumi-nee-chan?” Ranma murmured softly, sleepily, after a bit of the older girl just sitting silently. Kasumi smiled down at her and shook her head._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“Mm. Nothing, never mind.” The expression on her face was unreadable, but it was full of affection, and Ranma sighed through her nose. She was too tired to study the older girl’s face properly, to work to figure out what she was trying to convey through the pout of her lips, the crease in her brow, the shine in her eyes. ___

Ranma woke with an aching back, the sun burning orange through her curtains.

 

_What time is it?_

 

As her senses slowly woke themselves up and came back to her, she took note of the soft voices- one male, one female- murmuring a few feet away from her. She wasn’t catching much of what they were saying, but she was getting some of it, so she kept her eyes shut, not wanting to interrupt.

 

Their conversation was choppy and strange, concerned and hushed, and though she was only catching bits and pieces of it, she was still able to understand that the words were about her. She finally opened her eyes, squinting at the assaulting light and barely resisting the urge to just close her eyes again and go back to sleep. She made an unintentional half-grunt, half-groan as she moved to sit up, a whoosh of breath leaving her at the pressure on her chest. Sleeping on her back did her no favors anymore. She made a pitiful noise, forgetting about the others in her room, and cupped her sore breasts, curling over them.

 

“Mother _fucker_ …” She hissed out, touch light and careful, because even her own soft hands were much too rough.

 

“Ranma-chan!” Kasumi crouched beside her, cheeks flushed in worry and hands hovering nervously. She’d nearly knocked over the dish of water at Ranma’s head. “Are you alright? What happened?”

 

“Ugh. Boobs just hurt.” She grunted, releasing her chest and shifting her posture. She laid back down slowly, curling onto her side to face Kasumi. “What time ’s’it?” She looked up at the older girl, reaching up to rub her eyes with the heel of her hand. “How long was I asleep?”

 

“It’s about six, Ranma-chan.” The fingers from before returned to her hair, carding gently through her loose and sweaty curls. “There’s food downstairs in the fridge if you’re feeling up to it.” She stopped and pressed her soft, cool hand against Ranma’s forehead, frowning lightly, before continuing with her light massage. Ranma slipped her eyes shut with a content hum. “You still don’t have a fever… Otou-san,” she looked over her shoulder, brows furrowed in concern. “Will you give Doctor Tofu a call and see if he has an opening soon?” Soun nodded. He’d been so silent that Ranma had forgotten about him, despite having heard him speaking upon waking. He rose and slipped from the room with the grace of a true martial artist, leaving Ranma and Kasumi alone.

 

“May I ask you something, Ranma-chan?” Kasumi spoke gently, quietly, to the younger girl, who nodded, opening her bleary eyes again. Her body was relaxing on it’s own, trying to lull her back into sleep.

 

“‘Course ya can.” She mumbled, blinking up at her. “Whaddya need?”

 

Kasumi stayed silent for a few more moments, continuing to run her fingers through the small redhead’s hair as she thought and considered her words.

 

“Kasumi-nee-chan?” Ranma murmured softly, sleepily, after a bit of the older girl just sitting silently. Kasumi smiled down at her and shook her head.

 

“Mm. Nothing, never mind.” The expression on her face was unreadable, but it was full of affection, and Ranma sighed through her nose. She was too tired to study the older girl’s face properly, to work to figure out what she was trying to convey through the pout of her lips, the crease in her brow, the shine in her eyes.

 

“M’kay… Wake me for dinner in a little while?” Ranma whispered, words slightly slurred. Her eyelids drooped, posture going slack as she melted into her futon. Kasumi smiled down at her warmly, chuckling fondly.

 

“Of course, Ranma-chan. Get some rest.”

 

* * *

 

Kasumi stared into her drink. The world was dark around her, the lights off, and the only light illuminating the room was the reflection of the moon on the pond that shined brilliantly just outside the door. She thumbed the rim of the clay glass, bringing it to her lips to take a small sip. The liquid burned as it dripped down her throat, and she welcomed the feeling. The clock to her right read 01:24, and the young woman sighed.

 

She didn’t know what to do.

 

She wasn’t a fool, she knew of Ranma and Ryouga’s “relationship”, or whatever it was, and had known for some time. Her room was the closest to the dojo, and Ranma, despite being a trained martial artist, apparently didn’t have the ability to keep her mouth shut. Kasumi sighed through her nose, tipping her sake back and pouring herself another dish right after.

 

Kasumi spent enough time around the women who visited the clinic to know and recognize the early signs of pregnancy, and Ranma wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding her symptoms. A horrible job really, in her opinion, so Kasumi assumed she had no idea of the fetus that was probably growing inside of her. But Kasumi was observant. It came from years of quiet, years of listening to what was happening around her, which had all started shortly after her mother had gotten sick and she’d been forced to take over the role of homemaker. Kasumi took another drink. She wished her mother was there, beside her. She wished her mother could be there to help Ranma, because her mother would certainly care about the wild girl, even though Ranma’s own mother didn’t, couldn’t. Tendou Yumiko had a large heart, filled to the brim with kindness and compassion to the point of overflowing.

 

Kasumi capped the bottle before her, tossing back the rest of her cup before rising. She’d spoken to Doctor Tofu, and they had an appointment tomorrow afternoon to confirm Kasumi’s suspicions. Ranma was not going to take this well.

 

She took a deep breath, and after placing the sake back in its hidden spot, she headed up the stairs, and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a more Kasumi-centric chapter lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She tied the ribbon into her hair, around her half-assed bun, as she moved passed the corner of the hallway, securing the knot of the bow by the time she reached the stairs._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Off to the clinic. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!

Ranma glared at her reflection in the mirror, tying her drawstring pants against her waist with more intensity than needed. The blue changsan she wore was tight against her breasts, even without the bra Akane tried to force her into. She wore her training pants lower on her belly than usual today because her hips ached, and she felt bloated. It wasn’t even noticeable, but to Ranma it felt like she’d swallowed a small balloon.

 

Ranma swore loudly.

 

She turned from the mirror and yanked her hair up into a messy bun with the band around her wrist, scowl twisted onto her face. Leaving the house was such a chore. Her whole body hurt in weird ways from the position she’d slept in both yesterday and last night, and as much as she’d rather be curled under a heating blanket and over a heating pad- regardless of the fact that it was one of the hottest days of the summer so far- she had to go to the goddamn clinic. And over what, a headache and some vomit? Some mild exhaustion? God, she was lucky this place had mellowed her father out as much as it had. A year ago she would have gotten her ass kicked for this much upset about a simple _virus._ A virus that had been making her feel weird for a few days and had no fever to its name, but a virus nonetheless.

 

She was sweating like a fucking pig.

 

Ranma huffed and moved from the vanity in Akane’s room, no longer caring about the acne that was coming in around her nose. It wasn't like anybody else would care. It was too hot to give a shit about anything. This fucking heat was even making her body swell up. Ugh.

 

Ranma grabbed the shiny blue ribbon Kasumi had given her over breakfast on the way from the bedroom, from the top of the tall, dark dresser, and pulled the door shut behind her with her foot and ankle. Akane’s duck-shaped, plastic name plate smacked a few times against the old wood.

 

She tied the ribbon into her hair, around her half-assed bun, as she moved passed the corner of the hallway, securing the knot of the bow by the time she reached the stairs.

 

Off to the clinic.

* * *

 

The walk to the clinic was long, and hotter than hell, and it was one of the few times Ranma wished she had listened to Kasumi when the older girl insisted that a dress or skirt might be more comfortable.

 

Why the hell didn’t they have a car?

 

Kasumi, Genma, Akane, and Ranma herself were all practically drenched by the time they arrived, even though the walk had only taken ten or fifteen minutes. Ranma wiped her sweaty face with her equally sweaty arm as she sat down in the much cooler waiting room of Doctor Tofu’s tiny clinic. Thankfully, the strange man had fixed the air conditioning roughly a month before. Her father probably would have quit working here a long time ago if he hadn’t.

 

Red hair frizzy and stuck to her forehead, her nice shirt wrinkled and sticking to her belly, Ranma relaxed in her seat and stretched her body out in a very unladylike way. Kasumi sat beside her, her chubby cheeks noticeably flushed, white sundress bunched up in her lap to try and get some airflow to her pale legs. Her silver engagement ring sparkled in the low light. Akane was beside her older sister, panting rather harshly, her own bangs plastered to her forehead. She’d taken the seat closest to the AC box, so she was getting all of the cold air first, the sneaky little fox. Her father had disappeared into Doctor Tofu’s private office across the room.

 

 _“Fuck,_ it’s hot.” Ranma groaned out, letting her eyes slip shut. They were early for the appointment, so Ranma figured they had some time to get their body temperatures back to normal.

 

“Language, Ranma-chan.” Kasumi muttered pathetically, no real threat in her tone, her head tipped back against the wall. “We’re in public.” Ranma peeked an eye open to see Kasumi give her a tired, slightly disappointed look, eyeliner bleeding a little. She motioned to Kasumi’s eyes before closing her own again, catching the older girl as she leant over to dig into her purse for her handheld mirror before they slid shut.

 

“Nobody else is here, nee-chan,” Akane grunted, eyes also closed as she relished in the change of temperature. Just two minutes and already she was feeling better. “Let her say what she wants. At least until somebody else comes in or Tofu-ishi comes to get us.”

 

Kasumi sighed, but ultimately relented, clearly too hot and tired to really fight it. She fixed her eyes, wiping away the dark ink and reapplying the liquid mess once the spot had dried.

 

Genma rejoined them sometime later, just as Ranma was beginning to nod off to the thrum of the AC and the soft chatter of the two sisters, and sat his large, furry body in the spot beside her.

 

“Awe, Pop! You’re too warm! Can’t ya just sit across the room or somethin’?” She groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes. Irritation bubbled up in her stomach.

 

The panda made a soft noise, a quiet half-roar in answer, a heavy paw raised, and Ranma’s scowl deepened.

 

“Do ya gotta fuckin’ be like that right now? I can’t understand a word yer sayin’!” She was slipping back into her accent in her rising anger. Anger that appeared from nowhere and just continued to spill from her lips. “We’re in a goddamn doctor’s office, fer shit’s sake! Ya probably aren’t even allowed ta legally be here with all o’ that fuckin’ fur!” She spat, uncovering her face, now flushed and screwed up with emotion. She gripped tightly to the plastic armrests beneath her elbows, dark eyes flashing. “Move yer fat-ass over there, ya fuckin-”

 

“Ranma-chan!” Kasumi snapped, Ranma’s jaw clicking shut so hard she felt it rattle her entire skull. She stood abruptly from her seat and stomped across the room, throwing herself into a seat and closing her eyes again, sneer still marring her cheeks. Her eyes stung but she ignored it, huffing and puffing and doing her best to pretend she couldn’t feel the three concerned sets of eyes on her.

 

Dammit.

* * *

 

Doctor Tofu started with a basic check-up after a brief, quiet conversation with Kasumi in his private office. He took her temperature, her blood pressure, got her height and weight, asked Ranma herself about why she was there. The redhead mentioned the exhaustion, the ache in her hips, the nausea- leaving out the sore boobs and frequent bathroom trips, because those most likely didn’t matter here- and Doctor Tofu scribbled it all down in his notes. Ranma had no idea she had a file here. Or that Doctor Tofu had a filing system at all.

 

“Alright, Ranma-chan, I’m going to ask you a series of very weird questions, and they’re probably going to make you a bit uncomfortable, but I need you to bear with me, okay?”

 

Ranma raised a brow, but nodded. “Yeah, sure, Tofu-isha.” The doctor nodded, easily ignoring her slang the way he had for years, sitting his clipboard in his lap and crossing his arms over it.

 

“How long have you been stuck biologically female?”

 

“Uh… ‘bout three weeks now, I think.”

 

“When was your last menstrual period?” Ranma frowned, cheeks pinking. She stared at the floor, gripping rather tightly to the bed beneath her. What this had to do with her virus she had no idea, but she supposed Doctor Tofu knew what he was doing, so she answered anyway.

 

“I dunno. Last time I was like this longer than a week, I guess. Probably a couple of months ago?” Tofu hummed, shifting his posture to allow himself to be able to write while he sat like that. He wrote something in messy scrawl that Ranma couldn’t read, and hid the clipboard before she could even try.

 

“Now, Ranma-chan, you may not like this question, but I do have to ask it.” At Ranma’s hesitant, skeptical nod he continued, a sigh on his lips. “Are you sexually active?”

 

Ranma thought about lying, about simply just saying no. She thought about turning red, about freaking out and forcing them to avoid the question, to move on and forget about it. She wanted to pretend that she _wasn’t_ sexually active, that she was still the blushing virgin she should have been, and was in her makeshift family’s eyes. But, something in her gut told her to just buck up and tell Doctor Tofu the truth. He couldn’t tell anybody, she was eighteen, and confidentiality existed, didn't it? Based on his tone he probably knew the answer anyway, so there wasn’t much use in lying.

 

She pursed her lips, glaring at her lap with swimming eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath before finally answering the question. “Yeah.” She winced at the way her voice cracked at the confession. Doctor Tofu either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and wrote something else down. He gave her another patient look after relaxing his hand to have a more neutral grip on the pen.

 

“And when was the last time you had sex, protected or otherwise?” The young redhead grit her teeth.

 

“Bout three weeks ago.” She spat, voice quiet. She reached up to furiously scrub at the tears leaking from her eyes, scowling down at her lap.

 

“I’m going to do a simple blood test, and then I’m going to have you go to the bathroom and try to give me a urine sample. After that I’m going to do a very basic physical exam. It’s nothing too invasive though, so don’t worry.” Tofu’s voice was gentle. Bangs blocking her view, Ranma heard him sit his clipboard and pen onto the table beside him, and heard the wheels on his chair squeak as he stood. “You’re not in trouble, Ranma-chan. Having sex is natural, and you’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

 

“We used protection. Condoms and shit.” She hiccuped, sniffing loudly. “I promise.”

 

“You can get pregnant even with condoms, Ranma.” He passed her a tissue, and she took it with a soft ‘thank you’, blowing her nose rather loudly. “They only have a ninety-eight or ninety-nine percent chance of prevention, and while it’s uncommon, pregnancy isn’t impossible. Since I’m certain you don’t take any birth control pills or injections, and don’t have any sort of implant, the possibility of pregnancy, while still very, very low, is much higher for you than it is for someone who has one of those other forms of contraceptives.”

 

Ranma nodded, sniffles and tears escalating to mild sobbing, quiet but forceful. Doctor Tofu gave her a gentle, comforting pat on the back before having her rise. “I’ll do the physical exam first since we’re here, and then I’ll draw your blood. After that, head to the bathroom,” he motioned to a door behind him, “and try and get me a good, clean urine sample. I’ll run the tests and we can talk privately after that, okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

* * *

 

Ranma stared blankly at her hands, palms open and facing upwards, blue eyes wide and blank.

 

_“Your hCG levels are pretty high, so I’d put you at around three weeks, just like you said. I suppose some form of congratulations are in order.”_

 

She was pregnant. Fucking _pregnant._

 

Doctor Tofu was speaking to her softly about options, about keeping it, about carrying and then seeking out adoption, and abortion, and whatever the fuck else there was, but Ranma had tuned him out long before he’d started. She was only eighteen, still in highschool, still too young for this. And Ryouga-

 

Oh, god, _Ryouga._ He was going to lose his mind! If she even ever fucking saw him again, the bastard.

 

Ranma moaned pathetically, putting her head into her hands. Doctor Tofu had stopped talking about options and vitamins and whatever else, and was now asking her a question. She should probably answer him.

 

“What?” She mumbled, peeking at him through the gaps in her fingers. Her bangs blocked the way, so she lifted her head a bit higher, off of her sweaty hands. “What was your question?” Her voice sounded thick and far away, even to her own ears.

 

“I asked if you’d like to tell your family? I can’t legally say anything without your consent, since you’re an adult now and you’re not in any danger, but I’m sure they’d like to know what the diagnosis is. I can tell them it’s something you’ll need to deal with privately, or I can tell them the truth. Or you can tell them. What would you like to do?”

 

“You tell them. The truth. Please.” Ranma whispered, voice breaking, and dropped her face back into her waiting palms.

 

She listened as Doctor Tofu rose and left the room, and Ranma winced at the sound of her father’s enraged panda roar moments later.

 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long as hell 
> 
> next chapter is probably gonna be wild, lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is shorter  
> it may have a few mistakes, I'll go back over it tomorrow and make sure, but for now it's 2:40 in the morning and ya bitch is tired, lol

Akane was screaming. Probably crying, too, based on the thickness of her voice, but Ranma couldn’t see her- didn’t _want_ to see her- from where she was glaring down at her own lap, eyes burning with tears both shed and unshed. Her father was also screaming, voice deep and guttural, yelling louder and more furiously than Ranma could ever remember hearing. They were both speaking over each other, and she couldn’t make out a word of what either of them were saying. All she could understand was snippets of doctor Tofu trying to calm them down.

 

Kasumi, however, was quiet, sitting beside Ranma calmly, long fingers intertwined. Her stiff, clenched hands were folded neatly in her lap. There was tension floating around her, but Ranma couldn’t tell what the emotion was, and didn’t particularly care to find out.

 

“I want to go home.”

 

It was all the tiny redhead had said in at least twenty minutes, and it shut her father and fiance up almost instantly. Kasumi’s grip on her fingers tightened further. Ranma’s voice had cracked when she’d spoken, broken. Her throat was hoarse from choking back sobs.

 

“You want to go _home?_ **_I_ ** want a _son_ that isn’t pregnant!” The redhead flinched, shoulders hunching. The last time her father had spoken to her like that, she’d gotten a concussion. The man’s face was red, and Ranma could have sworn that smoke was coming from his nostrils.

 

“It’s not like I did it on _purpose_ -”

 

“It doesn’t fucking matter, Ranma!” Genma snarled, cutting his daughter off with absolute _fury_ in his eyes.

 

It didn’t matter that Ranma was outright sobbing now, no longer able to hold her emotions back, tears readily dripping off her lashes and making her vision swim. It didn’t matter that her whole body was trembling, chest rising and falling erratically, that even Akane had stopped yelling and was remarkably silent. It didn’t matter that his little girl was terrified, that she was only eighteen and _pregnant,_ that Akane definitely hadn't been the one to impregnate her. It didn’t matter that her sobs tore straight through his heart, that despite his anger, all Genma really wanted to do was wrap Ranma up in his arms and make every bad thing disappear, keep her safe and stop her cries.

 

Instead of doing any of that, instead of comforting his only daughter, probably more scared than she’d ever been, he just kept screaming. Nasty, nasty words, spit out with fire on his tongue, and gut twisted in knots

 

* * *

 

Ranma stared blankly at the ceiling, seeing nothing in the pitch-black of the room. Not even the stars offered her any light, the moon hidden behind her own shadow.

 

It felt almost like a bad omen, and she hated it.

 

Her father was snoring loudly on the other end of the room, drunk and still so, so furious. Kasumi had offered to let Ranma sleep in her room, but Ranma couldn’t bring herself to force any more burden onto the older girl. She’d already caused enough trouble, and, on some sick level, she felt that she deserved to sleep in the same room as her father when he was like this, drooling in his panda form. His sharp teeth were meant for bamboo, but they could be so easily used to snap her neck, to bite into any fleshy part of her body in animalistic instinct.

 

She deserved the punishment of the fear, of the almost tangible rage rolling off of her father in waves.

 

Her eyes were adjusting to the dark now. The shapes of the trees reflected against the paper walls, and Ranma wanted to sob. Loneliness burned deep in her belly, molten lava in her throat. She slung an arm over her eyes, hiccupping out deep breaths in an effort to keep herself quiet. She bit into her trembling lip so hard that she could taste her own blood. She felt like such a _fool._ What in the _hell_ had made her think that casual sex with the boy she loved- the boy who didn’t love her back, and instead loved her _fiance-_ would end up in any way other than _this?_ With her pregnant, planning on keeping a child that had no business even existing yet, if at all, or inside of her. Nothing in her life ever turned out in her favor, why would this have been the exception.

 

Fuck. _Fuck._

 

Ranma let out a sob, harsh and sharp. It hurt her chest, rattled all the way through her skull, and she bit hard into her arm in an effort to _shut the fuck up_ , because she _could not_ wake her father. Ranma rolled to her side, curled her knees up to her chest, bit into her hand instead, her arm curled around her heaving abdomen.

 

What kind of mother was she going to be? She didn’t have the skills. She had a quick temper and such an _active_ \- for lack of better word- lifestyle, chased back and forth by fiance after fiance. She didn’t know how to _care_ properly, her own experience with parental figures so lacking that it hurt _physically._

 

Ranma had no idea what the fuck she was going to do, and she certainly didn’t know how she was going to do it.

 

* * *

 

Ranma still hadn’t come down to eat, despite the fact that it was past three in the afternoon, and Kasumi was worried. Even Gemna, cranky and hungover, had emerged just after noon, and hadn’t moved from his spot out on the deck. He was just staring out into the koi pond, an unreadable look in his eyes. Kasumi had elected not to bother him, still feeling something more than sour with him from his attitude the day before.

 

What right did he have to yell at Ranma like that, when she was wailing and apologizing almost incoherently. Kasumi hadn’t even made him breakfast. She’d left it up to the bastard to get it himself. She didn’t care whether or not he ate.

 

She fingered her ring, folded comfortably on her cushion in the family room. The tv was on, but she’d long ago drowned out the sound. Akane was mumbling and pacing a few feet from her, and even Nabiki was beginning to get twitchy, gaze drifting to the stairs every now and again. Kasumi started drumming her fingers instead. She sighed softly, attracting the older of her two sisters, who rolled onto her knees to half-crawl closer to her.

 

“She’s going to be fine, you know, that, right? She probably just needs some time to herself. This is a pretty big life change.”

 

“I know,” Kasumi whispered, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair anxiously. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried. She still a child, and I just… She’s so scared, Nabiki.” Her voice cracked. She hung her head, taking a shaky breath to keep her tears at bay. “I’ve never seen her break down like that before.”

 

Nabiki placed a hand over her sister’s and gave it a squeeze. Kasumi began sobbing in earnest at the touch. “Kasumi…”

 

“I’m… I’m going to go check on her. She needs to eat something.”

 

Kasumi wiped her face with her apron, sniffling. She rose hastily, some of her hair slipping from her loosely-tied side ponytail, eyes puffy and red-rimmed. She moved to the kitchen, ignoring the protests of her sisters, and made a quick sandwich, throwing the most basic of ingredients between bread. She grabbed a package of crackers and a bottle of water on her way from the room, jogging up the stairs two at a time. She rounded the corner quickly, intending to head towards Ranma’s room, but the sound of retching caught her attention. She sighed softly and placed the food onto one of the decorative tables in the hall, and turned in the other direction.

 

It was going to be a long few days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! I'm on a break from school so I'll try to knock out a few chapters!

Ranma’s alarm clock was blaring so furiously that it hurt.

 

She rolled onto her belly after switching the nasty device off, bloated and achy and absolutely not ready to face the day. Her floral-printed cotton nightgown, newly gifted to her by Soun - an old one of his wife’s, apparently, that she’d used when pregnant - as some sort of peace offering a few days before, was twisted and bunched uncomfortably, but she genuinely couldn’t bring herself to give a shit. 

 

She was so fucking tired. 

 

This pregnancy was draining the life out of her.

 

She didn’t even have the energy to open her eyes, let alone get up and get dressed to go to school. She was sweaty and her hips felt sore. She squeezed her pillow, holding it over her ears in a weak attempt to try and forget that it was already morning, that Kasumi or Akane were going to come in and wake her in only a few short minutes. The clock, with its blinking, angry red numbers, read 7:10, and the dull light of the sun was already peeking through her thick curtains. They were supposed to block out more light than they did, but she’d gotten them cheap from a vendor on the street, so she really shouldn’t have expected anything different. 

 

Ranma rolled back onto her back with an irritated huff, glad that she’d listened to Kasumi and moved into one of the spare storerooms. It was small, but it was quiet, and now she didn’t have to worry about her father. He hadn’t spoken to her in nearly three weeks, just stared at her blankly every time they happened to meet. 

 

The young redhead propped herself up with a yawn, breath leaving her in a  _ whoosh  _ at how heavy her breasts felt all of a sudden. “God _ damn _ ,” she wheezed, shifting her position so she could stand. She cupped her chest as she made her way to her closet, sliding the door open with her foot, wincing at the sharp sound it made when it hit the wall. She probably wasn’t going to be able to fit into her usual pants, even if she removed the drawstring. She’d always had a thin waist and slim hips, even as a boy, but she definitely didn’t anymore. Her hips were already beginning to widen and her belly beginning to expand. Ranma stared blankly at the pale green dresses hanging before her, hand-me-downs from Kasumi’s high school years. She sighed heavily, pulling one of the darker of the dresses from its hanger and tossing it over one of the plush chairs Kasumi and Soun had moved into her new room.

 

When Kasumi had initially gifted them to her, they’d managed to position the uniforms to hide her belly pretty well, but Ranma was still worried. She was a tiny girl, not even one hundred fifty-two centimeters, and her belly, while still barely bloated, looked much larger on her than it would have on someone taller. People were going to notice, and it made her gut twist uncomfortably.

 

But she couldn’t skip any more of her classes, even if Akane was bringing her notes and other work she was missing. Doctor Tofu’s basic, un-detailed note to the school could only stretch so far, and she’d worn away the kindness and flexibility from the administration a week before. She absolutely had to go to class, even though the thought of leaving the house and seeing her classmates made her want to vomit. 

 

Ranma tugged her gown over her head, goosebumps rising and spreading across her arms, chest, and legs. She pulled her arms close to her chest with a full-body shudder, teeth chattering as the air from the AC washed over her. She shuffled over to the dresser and yanked the middle drawer open. She snatched a bra- gifts from both Nabiki and Kasumi, theirs and old ones of their mother’s- and quickly snapped it into place, swiping a pair of socks before lightly jogging back over to the bed to pull her dress over her head as fast as she could. She did the buttons up with nimble fingers, then tied the heavy bow loosely into place. Any tighter and Ranma felt her belly would be too pronounced. She dropped onto the floor to tug her socks up to her knees, sighing in relief as warmth flooded her icy toes. 

 

The clock read 7:28, and still, all Ranma wanted to do was curl up in her futon and go right back to sleep.

 

A knock at her door shut that train of thought down immediately, and Ranma sighed through her nose at Kasumi’s soft voice calling for her to wake up.

 

“Coming!”

* * *

Ranma knew Ucchan had noticed immediately.

 

(The girl was her closest friend, and had Ranma not found love in a raggedy boy with no sense of direction, she might have allowed herself to fall in love with Ukyou.)

 

Even though Ucchan hadn’t exactly said anything to her, the look in her eyes spoke volumes. She at least had her suspicions, if not the facts. All throughout first period she’d alternated between taking notes and side-eying Ranma with sharp, narrowed eyes. 

 

Ranma forced herself to keep her bright eyes forward, to ignore the feeling of the hair on the back of her neck standing on end and the goosebumps spreading across her arms. She forced herself to ignore her closest friend, to scribble her notes diligently for once despite the stares from her classmates. She pretended not to hear the whispers about how she’d never actually worn the girls uniform before, and worked on bracing herself for the off-to-the-side and to her face speculations on where she’d been that would come during the break. She tucked a hand between her legs, fingers trembling as they gripped the hem of her dress, arm blocking her tummy the best she could get it to. 

 

Hopefully no one had noticed anything off other than the skirt and the bouncy red curls tied into a high ponytail with a ribbon, and hopefully she could write any symptoms that showed up during lunch off as remnants of the flu she hadn’t actually had. 

 

A tiny scrap of paper was dropped onto the corner of her desk suddenly, drawing Ranma’s attention away from the math lesson at hand. She snatched it quickly and placed it on her leg, reading it beneath her desk so the teacher wouldn’t notice.She didn’t need the extra attention that would bring. She skimmed it, taking note of Daisuke’s messy scrawl. She could barely even read the words, all of her attention now on deciphering the tiny, scribbled kanji. It seemed messier than usual. 

 

_                                                                   **You good, man?** _

**_-Daisuke_**

 

Ranma huffed out a breath, her shoulders slumping from where she hadn’t even noticed they’d been tense. She needed to calm down, if even Daisuke was noticing that she wasn’t all herself. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, the dark-haired boy diagonally behind her, and gave a barely-there nod of her head, curled ends of her hair swishing a little. She heard Hiroshi’s soft sigh of relief directly behind her as she turned her attention back to the board, an equation she couldn’t understand scribbled above a polygon of some sort.

 

Fuck.

* * *

Nausea hit Ranma full-force in the middle of second period.

 

Hinako-sensei was going over the basic structure of a sentence, again, because for some reason that one kid in the back of the class  _ just didn’t get it _ . Her tone was becoming more frustrated the longer it went on, and Ranma was  _ pretty  _ sure the kid understood it just fine and had from the beginning, but was trying to stall so they wouldn’t get to finish today’s lesson. Hinako-sensei never gave homework if they hadn’t completed a lesson. Normally, Ranma would appreciate the attempt, might even join in on it, but she was so tired, and the heat of the room was starting to get to her- why the  _ fuck  _ the principal didn’t believe in air conditioning after living in  _ Hawaii  _ of all places made fuck-all sense to her, but the guy was fucking nuts, so she supposed it was to be expected- making her head swim and her tummy twist up in a way that made her nervous. 

 

Saliva was starting to gather in excess by the time she was able to tune back into the lecture.

 

“And so, like I’ve said five times already, Hideki-kun,” Hinako-sensei sighed, scribbling notes onto the chalkboard, “a dependent clause will be either adverbial- meaning it will answer questions such as how, in what way, when, where, and to what extent- noun, or adjective, meaning-”

 

“Sensei!” Ranma’s hand shot up into the air so fast that it hurt her shoulder, her other hand hovering near her mouth with shaking fingers. Sweat dripped down her face, matting her curls to her head.

 

Hinako-sensei’s brows turned down sharply, hating more than anything to be interrupted while teaching. Her voice dripped with false-sweetness when she spoke again. “Ranma-chan, I’m discussing clauses with Hideki-kun, can’t it wait-?”

 

“I’m going to throw up! May I please be excused to the restroom!” Ranma was halfway out of her seat before she even received a response, panic building in her chest and making her heart thud heavily. It made the nausea worse.

 

_ Oh, gods, she was going to throw up, she was going to puke, everyone was going to find out, they were going to laugh- _

 

“Go.” Hinako-sensei, eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline, pointed to the door, and Ranma took off faster than she assumed was possible when she had vomit climbing up the back of her throat and threatening to burst through her tightly closed lips. She nearly tripped on both Hinako-sensei’s desk  _ and _ the doorframe on her way out. 

 

Her shoes squeaked on the tiled floor as she moved, taking the corner of the hallway so carelessly that a teacher from another classroom opened one of his windows and shouted at her to stop running when she slammed full-force into a bucket sitting smack-dab in the middle of the hall, placed there to gather the water from the leaking roof, and went down hard on her knees and palms. She nearly slipped on the water that was quickly pooling from the still-rolling bucket as she pulled herself up, drenched, the mess almost three meters down the corridor in seconds. She clambered into the bathroom, the large door slamming against the wall with a painful sound.

 

She heaved yellowed bile into the sink.

* * *

It was Ucchan that helped her to the nurse, and it was Ucchan that she woke up to after passing out against the sink and failing to return to class. It was Ukyou- the message apparently coming from Akane as well- who insisted that she remain in the office for the rest of the day, so the nurse could at least ice her knees to keep them from bruising any further. It was also Ucchan that threatened her, guilted her, with worried tears in her beautiful chestnut eyes, until Ranma agreed to go to the shop after school and let Ukyou take care of her, to talk to her, even if only for a minute.

 

Ranma agreed easily, and fell into an uneasy sleep until the girl came to retrieve her after clubs at five. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big time skip i know ill try and make them smaller, i just wanted to get to when the real symptoms started to show  
> makes things more interesting lol
> 
>  
> 
> ukyou and ranma talk next
> 
>  
> 
> pregnancy symptoms during the second month (5-8 weeks) include:  
> fatigue, lack of energy, sleepiness  
> frequent urination  
> nausea, with or without vomiting  
> constipation  
> excess saliva  
> indigestion, bloating, flatulence, heartburn  
> food aversions and cravings  
> breast changes (fullness, heaviness, tenderness, tingling, darkening of the areolas, more prominent lubrication glands, more blood vessels appearing/becoming more prominent (veins: spider/varicose) )  
> slight whitish discharge from the vagina  
> headaches  
> faintness, dizziness  
> slight rounding of the belly  
> emotional ups and downs (mood swings, irritability, irrationality, weepy-ness, other emotions like joy or fear)  
> breakouts  
> panic attacks  
> dry skin/eczema


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much shorter this time, sorry!

“I can tell you’ve not been eating enough, you’re thin as a damn rail.” Ranma stared, exhausted despite sleeping the entire day away, at her oldest friend, the younger girl standing behind the pale wooden counter, hip somewhat cocked, a concerned frown marring her soft, round features. She hadn’t started the grill up yet, was just leaning on it, hands clasped together with most of her weight resting on her elbows. The heat of the summer sun made the freckles splattered along her cheeks and nose stand out. “The nurse said your blood sugar was so low she considered calling an ambulance for you.” The redhead grunted, wordlessly expressing her appreciation that Ukyou had convinced the stern woman to just let her rest.

 

“I’m eatin’ now more’n ever, Ucchan,” she muttered, stifling a yawn as she relaxed into her stool, shoulders sagging. Ukyou gave her a look, brow raised, and bent over to flip the switch on the underside of the grill. “Weight loss is ta be expected when all ya do is puke’n sleep.”

 

“What do you want on your okonomiyaki, Ran-chan?” 

 

“Shrimp, red pepper, hot sauce, uh…” Ranma furrowed her brows, lips pursed in concentration. Her belly was telling her one thing, her tongue another, and her brain was telling her not to do any of it, to just go with her regular order. She listened to her stomach despite the screaming of the little voice in her head, ignoring the faint taste of cherries on her tongue. “Bananas, and, like, double the cheese ya normally put on it. Oh! And somethin’ crunchy, like nuts ‘er chips ‘er somethin’.”

 

Ukyou paused in the middle of tying her hair up, dark waves longer than Ranma remembered them ever being, her apron folded and snug around her waist. The pure white of the ribbon contrasted beautifully with the darkness of her skin, matched the flowers dotted along the loose, heavy-bubbled sleeves half-tied and pooled at her elbows. The look Ukyou gave her was some strange mixture of disgust, amusement, and bewilderment- and something akin to understanding (or was it sympathy?)- but she simply nodded, face twisted up, and made no effort to argue or protest in any way. “Alright.” She knotted her hair ribbon tightly and finished rolling her heavy sleeves up past her elbows, securing the large loops around her deltoids. 

 

“But don’t use the any ginger in the sauce, please.”

 

They sat in a soothing, comfortable silence while Ukyou worked, the taller girl taking special care to substitute the normal ginger with cardamom. The scent of the greasy, sizzling food less than a foot in front of her made Ranma’s mouth water. Her belly rumbled, and she placed a hand, touch feather-light, over the barely-there bump, stroking discreetly with her fingers. She wouldn’t be able to feel anything for a while, doctor Tofu had told her so, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to feel the hardening flesh constantly, just in case something happened, lest she miss it even though it was happening inside of her and she would feel it even if her hand wasn’t there. 

 

Ukyou watched her friend as she stroked her abdomen, grip tight around the hilt of her rusting, antique spatula. Her dark eyes were sad, swimming, as she gazed at the redhead, her oldest friend, the love of her life. Ranma’s blue eyes were filled with soft almost-longing and adoration, and Ukyou knew, then, without a doubt, that she stood no chance against Ryouga, and truly never had. She found herself speaking again as she passed Ranma’s sizzling food across the counter.

 

“How long has it been, exactly?” 

 

Ukyou’s voice, soft and sweet, was patient, kind. There was no judgement in her tone, just a concerned sadness that made Ranma feel like crying all of a sudden, appetite disappearing even though her salivary glands kicked into gear, her chest filled with a wiggling warmth that was quickly spreading through her belly and to her limbs. She wasn’t sure if the feelings washing over her were pleasant or not.

 

Even with a hand resting protective over her belly, Ranma wished she had no idea what Ukyou- beautiful, incredible, understanding Ukyou, compassionate almost to a fault, because even when the answer was going to hurt her heart she would ask anyway, because she cared more for others than herself- was talking about, wished she could act confused and upset. She wished she could blink her eyes innocently, cutely, at her friend, lie, and have Ukyou believe her; she couldn’t bring herself to do that, especially not to Ukyou. If Ukyou was able to figure it out for herself, she deserved to be told the truth.

 

“Almost eight weeks,” she whispered the words, unable to look the taller girl before her in the eye. She hunched her shoulders, head turned away, and even though Ukyou’s voice held nothing close to malice, only genuine concern and love, Ranma couldn’t help but feel ashamed of herself, and guilty for telling Ukyou of all people, who loved her in a way Ranma could never hope to reciprocate, that she was pregnant with the baby of one particular lost boy. She picked at her pancake with her chopsticks, knuckles white.

 

“And it’s Ryouga’s, yeah?” Ranma winced despite the gentleness of the question, finally meeting the girl’s eyes for the first time since the nurse’s office. Ukyou had given her one of her thickest sweaters, one with a puffy scarf-neck, when they’d first gotten to the shop, and her tiny body was swamped in it, the tips of her fingers barely poking out from the frayed ends. She gripped tightly to the worn, grayed wool, hid her face from the nose down in the scarf.

 

“Mhm, s’Ryouga’s. I’m…” she sighed out, headache building from the tension in her neck. “Ucchan, ‘m sorry, I know ya-”

 

“Ranma, honey, you love who you love.” Ukyou smiled, warmly, a longing sadness in her large eyes. It hurt Ranma all the way down to her toes, tightened like a noose beneath her bellybutton, the headache beginning to worsen. “And if that person ain’t me, that’s okay. I want you to be happy, Ran-chan, and if the person that makes you the happiest is some dumbass with a snarled tooth who doesn’t know his right from his left,” her sad eyes twinkled suddenly with mirth, a smirk playing on her lips, “then who’m I to fight that.”

 

Ranma laughed for the first time in weeks when Ukyou winked at her. 

* * *

Ranma felt the lightest she had in months after spending the evening with Ukyou, not even leaving until well after she should have been asleep. She knew she probably should have called home, or maybe texted somebody. She should have at least done  _ something  _ to let Kasumi or Akane know that she was okay, but she’d gotten so distracted with Ukyou, had had more than enough fun to forget about her problems for just a little while, and time had gotten away from her.

 

She slid the door of the patio open as quietly as she could, drenched in sweat even though she’d only walked a few blocks. The light of the moon was the only thing that illuminated the room. She toed her shoes off and left them sitting next to Soun’s much larger slippers, closing the door silently behind her and flicking the lock. 

 

Rolling her shoulders back, Ranma headed through the kitchen towards the stairs with a jaw-popping yawn, exhaustion crashing over her like a freight. She trudged up to her little room, not even bothering to change before collapsing into bed.

 

She had school again tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Nabiki was bringing a boy over for dinner. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots going on, but I like this one!  
> thanks for your patience!

She knew she was hiding her pregnancy well.

 

No one but Ucchan had noticed, had even seemed to realize that things were different, which Ranma was thankful for. She wasn’t ready for the news to get out yet (even though she knew it would only be a matter of time before it did; her belly was bound to grow more). 

 

She felt more swollen nowadays, bloated. Kasumi’s dresses were a little too snug to wear with the ribbon, especially when she sat, and she had to wear her thickest kneesocks just to hide the darkened veins that were beginning to show around her ankles and calves. She felt heavy and fat, like a water balloon, even though she looked the same as she had four weeks ago. If she wasn’t seeing things, she could swear her face looked rounder, but when she told Akane, the other girl just gave her a weird look. Ranma’s waist had already grown a few inches and she’d gained two pounds in a little over a week. 

 

There was still no word from Ryouga, no sightings of P-chan around the neighborhood either. It made Ranma anxious, because the pig-boy was never really away for more than a few weeks, and usually made his way back around to the dojo after wandering between his home and theirs in the city and countryside he deemed mazes. She was worried about him, worried for him, and it made her belly tight.

 

It was starting to affect her sleeping, and it made it hard for her to relax and enjoy herself without feeling the need to check every nook and cranny of the house, of the yard, every corner of the village. There was no sign of him despite the impending restlessness in Ranma’s bones.

* * *

Nabiki was bringing a boy over for dinner.

 

They didn’t know who it was, Nabiki wouldn’t tell them, but it was clearly very important to her because she was wearing a skirt and dark lipstick, and had been fluttering around the kitchen with Kasumi since three in the afternoon. 

 

They were having expensive fish, a blowfish entree that they definitely couldn't afford but Nabiki had managed to bring home anyway. Soun kept asking her where she’d gotten it, how she’d paid for it, but the rest of them had pretty much accepted that Nabiki probably had her own offshore bank account that was adding interest by the second, so they didn’t even bother questioning her when she did things that she shouldn’t have been able to do or had things she shouldn’t have been able to have. 

 

Ranma poked her head into the kitchen, holding one of the yellow curtains out of the way because it was  _ just _ low enough to obstruct her view. 

 

“Food almost ready? Me ‘n the kid‘er gettin’ hungry.” She placed a hand over her belly, hair tied in a neatly braided bun atop her head. Her pale green cheongsam hugged her form nicely and made her belly look bigger, more pronounced, than it was, the silk golden trim mermaided around her ankles. 

 

“It’s almost ready, Ranma-chan, don’t worry.” Kasumi smiled sweetly at her from where she was stirring something Ranma couldn’t quite see, sweat dripping from her brow. Her foundation was running a bit, but Ranma didn’t doubt she’d be able to fix it with little effort long before their guest arrived. “You can have an orange or two to tide you over, though, if you’d like. There’s plenty in the fridge.” 

 

“Sweet! Thanks, Kasumi-nee.” Ranma grinned, pushing the curtain fully out of her way as she shuffled into the room, the small heels on her shoes accenting her slight waddle from the widening of her hips. She weaved her way around Nabiki, who was alternating between carving carrots into flowers and snapping edamame beans from their pods, and opened the fridge, snatching a handful of oranges to hold between her right inner elbow and her boob. 

 

“Fix your lipstick, Ranma,” Nabiki muttered, scowling down at the half-botched carrots, not even bothering to turn around or shift her position well enough to see the little redhead. “It’s smeared a bit on the bottom left.” 

 

Ranma huffed out, wiping her thumb beneath her lip. Her finger came back colored a pinkish red. “Shit. Yeah, alright.” She sighed, moving the heavy curtain out of her way again as she slipped from the room.

 

“Can’t believe I’m making such a big deal over fucking  _ Kuno. _ ”

* * *

Ranma blinked, nice chopsticks held weakly in her grip. Kuno Tatewaki was sitting directly across from her, back stiff and gaze straight ahead, fists clenched on his thighs, jaw tight as he tried to glare a hole in the paper of the wall behind her head. The tension in the room was heavy, and Ranma could almost taste it on her tongue.

 

It made her belly flutter uncomfortably. 

 

“The, um,” Kuno coughed, breaking the silence. He tugged at the collar of his more-than-formal kimono in a pathetic attempt to make it less constricting. It was probably one of the few times Ranma had ever seen him out of his kendo uniform, and she had to admit, he cleaned up pretty nicely. “The food looks very good, Kasumi-san.” His tone was tight, clipped, but it was obvious it was from nervousness and the ingrained need to be polite in any situation rather than anger or lack of caring. 

 

Ranma cocked her head, earrings clinking quietly as they swung. 

 

“Oh! Well, thank you, Kuno-kun! Though most of tonight’s meal is due to Nabiki’s work, not mine.” Kasumi smiled warmly, curled and fixed hair flowing elegantly over her left shoulder, practically shattering the tension. “She worked very hard to make sure everything was perfect for you-”

 

“Kasumi!” Nabiki hissed, shoving at her older sister. “Shut up!”

 

“Oh, for me? Nabiki-san!” Kuno was across the table almost instantly, intense gaze locked onto a reddening, wide-eyed Nabiki. He took her hands in his. “This dinner looks fantastic! I cannot wait to eat it! Thank you very much!”

 

“Sit down, weirdo! God!” Nabiki scowled, shoving him back across the table. The rest of the tension filtered from the room when Akane and Soun began laughing softly at them, their shoulders visibly slumping as they relaxed. Ranma could tell, though, that Nabiki wasn’t really upset, if the deepening flush and the way she was biting her lower lip to hide a smile were anything to go by. She grinned, snicked softly, and took a thin, choppy slice of blowfish tail from her plate. 

 

Nabiki really liked this dumbass, huh?

 

“Pig-tailed girl!” 

 

Ranma’s head snapped up from where she’d been staring at her plate, mid bite, to face Kuno. “Mmph? Whas?”

 

“You are pregnant!”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” She grunted, brows raised in surprise. 

 

“Was it that Saotome? Is that why he isn’t here this evening?” Kuno sat up straighter, butt no longer on his calves, hands balled into fists. She could almost  _ feel  _ the exasperation that permeated the room. “How dare he, that scoundrel, leaving a poor, young maiden all alone to raise his bastard child!” 

 

_ “I’m  _ Ranma, you fuckin’ moron,” she muttered, rolling her eyes at the familiar antics. 

 

“I will avenge thee, fair maiden!”

 

Ranma groaned, picking up another bite of fish, watching from the corner of her eye as Nabiki put her head in her hands.

* * *

Ranma hugged the toilet bowl, knuckles white, red face buried into the porcelain as she heaved her breakfast up. She felt like she’d been punched in the gut, muscles twisted and wrung out like a wet rag. Doctor Tofu had said that the morning sickness should be disappearing, and even though smells were no longer quite as strong, the force and amount of vomit had not changed, and the frequency had even seemed to increase. It wasn’t worse, per say, but it definitely wasn’t better.

 

Thankfully, though, most of the morning sickness occurred either early in the morning, typically immediately after she woke up, or sometime during lunch period, where slipping out of the classroom was effortless and unnoticeable if she gave the quick excuse of needing to piss to her friends.

 

Someone knocked on the inner bathroom door, and Ranma lurched forward as more vomit crawled up and out of her throat to splash into the toilet, sloshing with the rest of the mess she hadn’t flushed yet. A large, warm hand touched her shoulder gently not long after the knock, taking her unwound hair and holding it back as she finished emptying what little of her dinner from the night before hadn’t been fully digested while she slept, and the yellow bile that followed. She coughed and sputtered, hacking up the mix of saliva and puke in the back of her throat, spitting a few times, before slumping back, head tipped against the rim of the toilet seat. 

 

She moaned softly. She hadn’t been that sick in a few weeks at least, maybe even a month. 

 

“Shit… Thanks… got a tie ‘round my wrist, hang on.” She mumbled, reaching back weakly, muscles in her arms aching from the force of her grip, she took her hair from the hands - longer and wider than Soun’s, with wiry hair on the proximal phalanx, so they couldn’t belong to any of the girls - and tied her hair sloppily. She pushed herself away from the toilet, blinking her eyes against the bright lights. She was glad today was a Sunday, because she would have had to skip classes again had it been a weekday. 

 

“Are you okay?” Ranma tensed at the gruff, low voice, the warm hand tender where it was massaging between her shoulder blades. She opened her eyes slowly, rubbing at her face, more surprised than anything.

 

“Pop?” Her father smiled sadly, wrinkles around his eyes - when had he gotten those? Ranma couldn’t remember him ever looking so tired or so old, but then again, she hadn’t seen him other than small glances in over two months.

 

“Hello, s- daughter.” Genma’s smile tightened for a moment before relaxing. It was a while before either of them spoke again; they just stared at each other.

 

“Pop, what-”

 

“Your mother’s morning sickness lasted this long, too.” 

 

Ranma grunted in response, shifting off of her knees and onto her butt. She rose to brush her teeth after realizing her father wasn’t going to speak again, was just going to sit with his head down and his hands folded in his lap, lost in his own thoughts. She rinsed and cleaned her mouth, crouching over the sink to splash water on her face and scrub soap around her chin and cheeks to get rid of any drying vomit that might still remain. 

 

“I’m sorry, Ranma,” Genma muttered, soft and exhausted in both tone and demeanor. Ranma let out a quiet breath and sat before her father.

 

“I know, Pop.”

 

“I want to try to… redeem myself, I suppose,” he gave a dry, humorless chuckle, the rumble making Ranma’s shoulder slump in relief. She’d missed her father more than she thought she could, considering how often they’d fought before her pregnancy. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know that, but I would like to try to get somewhat close to it-”

 

“Take me to get ice cream later?”

 

“W… What?” Genma gave her a startled look, utterly baffled by the calmness, the maturity, his child was showing.

 

“Buy me ice cream later. Mint and rainbow sherbet, please.” 

 

Genma blinked, laughed, loud and booming and from his belly. It took him a few minutes to compose himself well enough to speak again. He took his glasses off with trembling fingers and wiped a few tears from his eyes.

 

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always loved Nabiki and Kuno as a pair!  
> I hope I portrayed the scene okay? Kuno is,. fucking stupid.  
> the original plan for this fic was always to have Genma be a huge support system for Ranma despite his midlife crisis over his teenaged daughter being pregnant, and from now on he's going to make more of an effort to be a better parent
> 
> I've got literally no idea what I want to do for the next chapter ://  
>  
> 
> pregnancy symptoms during the fourth month (12-16 weeks) include:  
> fatigue  
> decreasing urinary frequency  
> an end to or decrease in nausea or vomiting (though this is not the case for everyone)  
> constipation  
> heartburn  
> indigestion  
> flatulence  
> bloating  
> continued breast enlargement  
> decreased breast tenderness (also not the case for everyone)  
> occasional headaches  
> occasional faintness or dizziness, particularly with a sudden change in position  
> nasal congestion  
> occasional nosebleeds  
> ear stuffiness  
> sensitive gums -> may bleed when brushing  
> increased appetite  
> mild swelling of ankles and feet, occasionally of the hands and face  
> varicose veins of legs  
> hemorrhoids  
> slight increase in vaginal discharge  
> possible fetal movement near the end of the month  
> mood swings -> irritability, irrationality, inexplicable weepiness  
> excitement and/or apprehension if finally starting to feel/look pregnant  
> frustration at being "in between" (regular clothes too tight, maternity clothes too big/don't quite look pregnant enough for maternity clothes)  
> feeling scattered, forgetfulness, dropping things, having trouble concentrating


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long! next chapter is in the works!  
> (tw for graphic depictions of vomit in the first section of this chapter)

Yellow bile sloshed in the toilet bowl, landing in a gnarly mixture of chunky, orange puke and the greenish spittle that had followed it. Ranma heaved, hard and loud, stomach twisting as she struggled to breathe around her contracting abdominal muscles and the partially-digested food crawling back up her esophagus and into her throat. 

 

“Fuckin’ shit…” she moaned, coughing and spitting to try and rid herself of the horrid taste in her mouth. Her stomach gurgled with nausea again, so she pressed her forehead against the cool toilet seat, squeezing her eyes closed tightly to block out the moonlight coming through the window as she tried to will away the feeling of impending sickness. It was the middle of the night, but any amount of light still made her physically ill. She lifted her head and craned her neck slightly, the muscles aching as she peered down at her bloated belly, murmuring quietly. 

 

“Guess ya don’t like natto, huh…” 

 

Ranma chuckled weakly, the sound becoming a groan when her stomach gurgled unpleasantly. She held the underside of her belly, palm cupped against the spot where the fluttering of fully developed limbs was the strongest. At 18 weeks the baby wasn’t quite kicking yet, but the fluttering she’d been feeling for the last few weeks was definitely getting stronger by the day. She didn’t think it would be long before tiny hands and feet, complete with itty-bitty fingers and toes, were kicking her in the ribs or literally punching her in the bladder.

 

“Alright, alright, jeez,” she muttered, tipping her forehead back against the toilet bowl. “I won’t joke anymore. Can I go back ta bed now, please?” 

`

Ranma’s tummy twisted sharply all of a sudden, seemingly in response to her rasped question, and she barely had time to lift her head before she was heaving into the toilet bowl once again.

* * *

She was pretty sure that Nabiki knew Ryouga was the father. She couldn’t prove it, but with the way the older girl had been staring at her lately, Ranma knew that she knew  _ something _ . What exactly she knew, Ranma had no idea, but the narrow-eyed gazes directed at her tummy weren’t subtle, nor were they in any way polite.

 

She really had no desire to confront the older girl yet, though, and resolved herself to wait until Nabiki decided to do something about it herself.

 

Having gained almost two and a half kilos in the last month, Ranma couldn’t get into Kasumi’s old school dress anymore, which was incredibly unfortunate for a variety of reasons. But, thankfully, she had two weeks left of summer break before she had to go back for the fall semester, so she at least had that time to prepare herself for the shock of her classmates, and the ridicule that was sure to follow it. High school uniforms only went up so many sizes in a town this small and with a principal that crazy, and they would only shape to hide her bump for so long. 

 

“How about this one? It’s cute, and it’s shiny like all of your… qipos? Qipas?”

 

“Qipao. And sure, I guess,” Ranma grumbled, adjusting the large bundle of multi-colored clothes in her arms, doing her best to keep her gaze from wandering over to the nursing bras. She didn’t think she could deal with that right now, especially not with the headache that was building behind her eyes and the pressure from standing that was making her ankles swell. “But don’t you think I have enough, Kasumi-nee? I mean, my arms’re kinda startin’ to ache, which is really sayin’ somethin’, cuz it’s, y’know,  _ me. _ Nabiki’s already puttin’ a whole ‘nother armful in one o’ those fittin’ rooms over there.” Kasumi waved a hand dismissively at her, sifting through the line of pale yellow-green blouses.

 

“I know I’ve asked you this probably four or five times already, but what do you think? Small or medium? You’re a small young lady, but that’s also what’s making your belly look so much bigger than it is…” The older girl trailed off, mumbling under her breath, and placed a finger gently beneath her lower lip.

 

Ranma rolled her eyes and muttered the exact same answer she’d given every other time Kasumi had asked her the question. The baby fluttered in her lower belly, pressing a few, barely-there kicks to her lower right side, just by her hip. She grunted and shifted her weight to her other side, trying to provide less strain to the area. She felt uncomfortably heavy all of a sudden.

 

“Kasumi-nee, I need ta sit, I think.” 

 

Kasumi gave her a hum that showed that she definitely wasn’t paying attention, and Ranma sighed out softly, vision swimming a little. She juggled her heap of elastic-bellied dresses and pants and shuffled her way over to the dressing rooms in the back of the remarkably large store, hoping to run into Akane or Nabiki on her way to the benches just outside the cubicles. She needed to pass these clothes off, and she needed to sit down before she fainted. 

 

She hadn’t eaten in a few hours, and with how quickly this baby devoured calories, Ranma  _ really  _ needed to eat something.

 

After practically throwing herself onto the first padded bench she saw, Ranma relaxed heavily against the stiff wall behind her. She took deep breaths in through her nose and out her mouth to try and keep her blood sugar from spiking or dipping any further, a trick she’d picked up in China years ago that she hadn’t had to use in months. She closed her eyes, pile of clothes laid over her lap. 

 

“Ranma?” Ah, there she was. Ranma cracked an eye open, vision a little bleary. “Are you alright?”

 

“Hey, ‘kane. Jus’ a little tired ‘s all,” she muttered. “Need some food ‘er somethin’, I think. Ya got any pretzels ‘er anythin’ in yer bag, perchance?” Ranma grinned weakly at the taller girl, whose expression was becoming more and more concerned the longer Ranma spoke, words slurred and painted eyelids heavy. 

 

“Yeah, I’m sure I have something, hang on.” Akane let one of the straps of her bag drop to her elbow, then popped open the button between the two flaps of the purse. She dug around for a moment, brows furrowed in concentration. “Aha! Here we go! It isn’t much, but it’ll probably be enough for you until I can sneak out without Kasumi-nee-chan seeing and get you some fruit or something.” She grinned, passing a small package of mostly-smashed crackers to the redhead.

 

“Thanks, ‘kane, yer a doll.” 

 

“Don’t mention it.” Akane smiled kindly, working on uncapping her new, metal bottle of water.

 

Ranma snickered, tearing the plastic just enough to dump the entire baggy of off-brand Saltines into her mouth. She took the water bottle being offered to her right after, downing nearly half of its contents in one gulp.

 

“I’m gonna close my eyes for a minute, I think. Can ya take these to the dressin’ room for me?” Ranma blinked large eyes dramatically up at her friend, bottom lip extended for affect, who just laughed but took her bundle anyway.

 

“Of course, Ranma.”

* * *

The darkness of the night played no part in keeping Ranma awake, but the hall light her idiot father had left on when he went to take a piss over an hour ago certainly wasn’t helping her situation.

 

The pit of emptiness in her belly was really what was winding her up, choking her in a tight, unrelenting grip from the inside. No matter what she did she couldn’t will the feeling away, couldn’t ignore the ache in her bones brought on from the lonely silence of the night.

 

She missed him.

 

She missed that dumb motherfucker in a way that physically hurt. It was stupid, and, truly, made her a little angry with herself, because Ryouga didn’t love her; no, he loved Akane. 

 

When they began their “agreement”, as they called it, it was for the both of them to gain some level of experience and understanding of themselves, not for her to fall head over heels for a boy that genuinely couldn’t tell his right from his left. Ranma felt like an idiot, because she couldn’t stop thinking about that cute snaggletooth or the way it felt to run her fingers through Ryouga’s remarkably soft and fluffy hair, couldn’t help the way her body ached for his touch and yearned to hear his goofy little giggles. She wanted to kiss his neck, wanted him to bite hers, wanted to be able to sit in the tub and wash his hair again because they were both too sated from orgasm to worry about what was happening and what it meant.

 

Most of all, though, Ranma wanted Ryouga with her, wanted to see him at least in passing, wanted to watch the way he turned red when Akane was around because he was a fool with a crush on a pretty girl he had no idea how to talk to. And Ranma, selfishly, wanted Ryouga to look at her with dark doe eyes, expression melted into one of love and pure affection, un-lustful, undemanding, and patient. 

 

Ranma wanted Ryouga, and not having him, physically or otherwise, made her ill, and kept her up long into the early hours of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler for the good stuff coming up ;)
> 
>  
> 
> symptoms during the fifth month of pregnancy (16-20 weeks) include:  
> swollen feet  
> lower back pain  
> dizziness  
> nasal congestion  
> nosebleeds  
> “pregnancy brain”  
> difficulty sleeping  
> Braxton-Hicks contractions  
> increased appetite  
> increased weight gain  
> possible return of earlier fatigue  
> possible constipation, bloating, or other such things  
> etc.

**Author's Note:**

> not much but a good start, I think!


End file.
